The Heart's Secrets
by fanofmusic9292
Summary: Although America usually has an outgoing personality,his life holds painful secrets which are slowly coming back to harm him and mess with his sanity. Of course,as everyone knows,he is deeply in love with England and though he returns the words of love,America can't help the many doubts filling his mind. Will they be able to get through this together? Or will it all fall apart?
1. The Pain Begins

**I do not own Hetalia, or any of the characters.**

** This is purely for your enjoyment, and I really appreciate comments of both praise and criticism. Thank you for reading!**

* * *

I felt as if I was dying.

The tortuous pain, the burning, felt like continuous stabs to every inch of my being - the overwhelming scent of death filling my lungs, the absolute agony sweeping over my senses as not a single cry could find its way through my parched throat. . The horror of seeing darkness, pure, cold darkness, and nothing else.

But the worst part of it all, was that I enjoyed every second of it. My mind completely ignored the salty tears rolling down my cheeks at a mile per minute, and instead focused on that maniacal laugh echoing through nothingness. Was that… _my_ laugh..?

_I deserve this!_

What had I done?

I don't even know what caused this horrible - yet wonderful - pain.

_You destroyed him._

Who? Just what have I done? Tell me!

_You know just as well as I do._

I was drowning.

Sinking deeper and deeper into this pit of despair, never to be seen again. I tried to call out, tried to feel my way around, but all hope was lost as I fell slowly, painfully slow, into nothing. All was lost. I was never to be found.

And I was full of joy.

Sick, _disgusting,_ joy...

"Wake up!"

Just the faint sound of a familiar, almost warm, voice found its way through the void as I desperately reached up to grab hold of it.

"Come on, wake up.."

It spoke again, sending harsh icy air to fill my lungs,

"Don't mess with me! Wake up!"

I wish I could. I wish I could wake from this darkness. And then - a warm sensation crawled up to my face, followed by a feeling of ice-cold liquid. . Bright, brilliant light surrounding me, and my vision was swirling and dancing around an unfamiliar room. That is, until I realized where I exactly was. That sickly cold liquid turned out to be my own perspiration dripping down my forehead, and sticking onto the back of my neck in a large pool.

A nightmare.

It was only a nightmare.

But why had it felt so real..?

Taking shuddering and quick breaths, my eyes finally adjusted to my surroundings, and I turned to see a terrified male staring me down with worry swimming in his bright emerald eyes. I was going to try and speak, but my dry throat cut my words off short.

"Dammit, you scared the hell out of me you twit!"

"S-sorry…"

"Don't apologize idiot, just hold on."

I was going to protest - say everything was fine - but, that was a blatant lie. Truth is, my heart was thumping vigorously behind my ribs and they felt as if they might snap at any second, and my head was drenched in sweat, pounding in my skull. Water was forcefully poured down my throat, and immediately it cooled my heated body, my panting subsiding and breathing starting to regulate; while those large eyes continued to pierce into my own.

"I told you not to watch horror films before you go to bed, idiot."

Although he called me an idiot, I knew it was just out of habit, and it was a way to make himself feel better about the whole situation.

"I-It was just a nightmare Artie.."

Hardly managing a whisper, I looked towards him, having glasses shoved onto the bridge of my sweaty nose, "Even so, you were crying and muttering like a mad man. You… You scared me America. I shook you for minutes, but you wouldn't wake up. I thought-"

"If I was talking, I obviously wasn't dead."

"I know but. . I didn't know what to think honestly. I was just worried, alright?"

"You? Worried about me? That's a first."

"Bastard. I always worry about you, considering how stupid you are."

"Well, no need to worry Artie; the hero never dies!"

"I told you not to call me that!"

And with a small laugh escaping me as the other rolled his eyes, everything was back to normal. My heart rate had slowed, and I was sitting up chugging down the water that England gave me, (I wished it was soda, but I was grateful) and as I sat the glass down, I pulled him in for one of my famous hugs that I only enjoyed giving to him.

"Ameri-..! Dammit, you're all sweaty!"

"Hahaha!"

* * *

You know, it's funny how things work themselves out. At first, our relationship was nothing but constant fighting, thinking that England truly hated me, and vice versa, but something was deeper behind all of that fake hatred.

Love.

Sounds completely cheesey, I know, but who doesn't love that romance crap every once in a while? I do! Anyway, now here we are; lovers. And quite honestly, I couldn't be happier. Some people say it's awkward because we were once 'brothers', but England was, and really always has been, just looking out for me. He wanted to make me stronger, and let me grow into the country I am today. I'm grateful, and I'm sure he knows that - I tell him practically every day.

And I'm completely in love with him…

"Here."

A fresh plate of his infamous scones were placed on the table as a warm, genuine smile creeped along my lips. Sure, they were god-awful, but it's because they were made by him that I choke them down every morning. Sometimes I try to wake up early and make something different, but he's seriously persistent when it comes to cooking. Not sure if that's a blessing or a curse to be honest…

"Thanks!" I muffled through a mouthful of the warm scone, leaning up towards his cheek to peck it softly as his palm shooed away my face, "W-Wanker!" He hissed almost inaudibly, but I knew he didn't mean it - his cheeks were bright red! "Booooo… You're no fun." I pouted, sticking my tongue out in his direction as he rolled his eyes as usual, turning on his heels and re-adjusting his apron which I had bought him recently and told him to wear when he baked (I had told him it looked adorable on him, but he shoved it back in my face, telling me that "If you ever say that again, I'll never wear it!" And that was the end of that). Stuffing my face with the pastries, and chugging down a fresh cup of coffee, filled with sugar, I glanced over towards him as he poured his daily tea in one of his fancy tea cups. "I heard we have a meeting tomorrow?" I asked, causing him to jerk his head back towards me, "Yeah, we do. Hopefully it's not a disaster as usual… And let me do all of the talking America. You always piss everyone off."

"Aw, I do not!"

"Alfred, your ideas are complete bollocks."

I was about to respond when one of England's rare smiles caught my eye, immediately brightening my mood as I stood up slowly from my spot and looked over towards him before strolling over to his lithe figure to snake my arms around him from behind; purring into his neck with a large grin. Surprisingly, he didn't budge as I thought he would, and he actually leaned back into my touch. "You're being awfully nice to me today." I whispered towards him, bringing his usual personality back as he shoved me away with narrowed, sharp eyes (Yet, his face was a beautiful rosy color). "There's the Arthur I know…"

* * *

The rest of the day consisted of playful arguments, me insisting we have hamburgers for dinner, and him working outside in his lovely garden as I collapsed onto the couch. Clicking through different channels on his television as I leaned back against a pillow, I was just starting to get comfortable and content until an uncomfortable feeling filled my skull. I continued to stare into the TV, but the pain only grew and swelled with every second, and suddenly a piercing pain practically ripped through my skull; my hand slapping up towards my temple in attempt to stop the continuous thumping echoing in my eardrums. It seemed like a familiar feeling, but I brushed it off - I must have had too much caffeine… Right?

"Oi, America! Come help me with something." As much as I loved his voice, the sound only brought more aching which was sweeping through my whole body.

"C-Coming.."

Hoisting myself off of the couch, I stumbled towards the open door and into the spring evening, still clutching my head. "Are you alright?" "Yeah, no worries. I'm fine." I replied, leaning down to help him clean up the dirt spread around the patio, "You're rather pale.."

"I said I'm fine England.."

_Liar._

The shouting voice repeating in my head caused me to stop dead in my tracks, standing upright and connecting my ocean-like optics into England's emerald ones.

"England… Can we just go to bed?"

"Already? But it's only-"

I cut him off, "Please. My head is killing me dude."

"..Whatever you say.."

And thus ended another day, sweat appearing across my forehead as I slipped into the covers with nothing on but sweatpants, reaching towards the englishman and pulling him close to my chest. He didn't refuse, and all went silent, wishing that this unusual pain would subside and I would sleep peacefully as I did every night.

Except, I had a feeling more pain was to come.

* * *

**Thank you for reading the first chapter! Reviews are greatly appreciated - especially constructive criticism. :3 Have a wonderful day!**


	2. Tired Eyes

The feeling of agony didn't cease.

In fact, with every breath I took, the pounding increased not only in my head, but also in my heart. Both were racing frantically to the point of hyperventilation, and I knew I wouldn't be able to take it much longer.

Just wake up.

Open your eyes and everything will be okay.

_Why do you keep lying to yourself?_

There was that voice again; _my_ voice. And I was telling myself these things against my will. I was so lost and confused, I hardly realized my eyes were wide open and staring above me into the patterned ceiling. Forcing my lungs to work and regulate my breathing, I cautiously turned my head to see my lover tucked neatly underneath the fluffy bedsheets, sleeping peacefully as I wish I could. But, trying not to complain, I reached out for my glasses resting atop the wooden bedside table and slipped them on, peeling away the covers and feeling crisp air slapping my skin. I would have usually groaned aloud at the thought of the cold, but for once it felt amazing to be shivering from the cool breeze the open window provided. Walking towards said window, I reached out to place my warm palm along the glass, watching as it fogged up at my simple touch - lights from across the wide landscape sending a glare to slightly blind my vision.

It truly was a beautiful sight to behold: England's flower garden blooming and swaying, and the sound of the fountain which rested at the entryway of the large manor trickling softly and just barely entering my range of hearing. It was peaceful and totally relaxing, and I soon realized the pain had completely disappeared as the dawn sun began to peer over the horizon. Heaving a long sigh of content, I then turned once more to face the male hidden beneath waves of blankets which moved slowly as his gentle breathing caught my eye. I wanted to feel his warmth beneath my cold fingertips…

So, walking (well, more like staggering) back towards the overly-sized mattress, I reached towards the brit's cheek, resting my hand along his warm skin and just barely moved my thumb across it as a means of comfort. His face contorted slightly at the sudden feeling of cold, but he soon relaxed again and even nuzzled unconsciously against my hand. "I love you Arthur.." I whispered, half to him and half to myself, watching as his lips parted slightly - almost begging me to kiss him. Of course, I took the opportunity. I leaned in towards his dimly lit face, tightening my grip on his cheek, and carefully brushed our lips together; his heated and soft, and mine most likely cold and accepting the heat from his body with ease… God, did it feel so amazing to hold the one I loved most.

"N..ng.."

Blinking my cerulean eyes a few times, I noticed his brows beginning to form into a line of confusion, and he groaned once more, only louder this time, as I cautiously wrapped my legs around his lower torso with a large smile appearing and brightening my face.

"Good morning Artie~" I cooed close into his ear, getting the proper response of his emerald eyes shooting open with a look of pure annoyance (this was a daily occurrence) and his mouth opening as if to speak, but only a raspy whisper escaped him.

"Bas..tard." He breathed through a large yawn, a miniscule smile traced on his lips nonetheless.

For a few moments he simply stared up at me, scanning my face with a look of curiosity, and proceeding to reach up towards my cheek… Well, I thought so anyway, until he brushed his slim finger underneath my eye with a "tsk" blowing through his nose. "Did you not get any sleep? You look horrible."

"Wow, thanks man." I scoffed teasingly, removing my body weight on top of his own and curling up close to my pillow like a stuffed animal; pouting in a playful manner.

"I just meant that you look tired is all…"

"Yeah, I didn't get any sleep. It's not a big deal. I've pulled plenty of all-nighters."

"Hm. Well, alright."

I shrugged, watching as England stretched his sore limbs and maneuvered his way towards the bathroom to shower as he did every single morning (he likes to stick to routine).

"Hey England!"

"What is it now?"

"Can I join?" His face went a bright crimson as I spoke, and quickly slurred out, "O-Of course not you twit!" before slamming the door with an echoing boom. Just the reaction I was looking for! Chuckling to myself, I pulled away from the pillow and lazily scratched my body before rising from my warm spot in the bed. "You want pancakes? Or bacon or something?" I called out by the wooden door connecting to our shared bathroom, "We'll eat at the meeting, remember?"

Ah, that's right. I completely spaced the world meeting we had… Fortunately, due to current conditions, all of us seemed to get along to a point. Well, more like we could all hold a long, somewhat calm, conversation until France says something to completely piss England off and they'll argue it out like they do all the time.

_'Stupid frog-face!'_

_'Black sheep of Europe!'_

Or something along those lines.

* * *

"Alright dudes, let's start this meeting!"

"Who made you the leader?"

"I agree with France for once."

"Ugh, stupid bastards!"

"Calm down Roma…"

"Everyone shut up!"

"V-Ve..~"

And that's how every meeting began.

I would try my hardest to quiet everyone down and let the conference start, but instead I would get cut off by some insult (I would just laugh it off) and Germany would lose his patience and scream at us until the whole building seemed to shake. Oh, and it was always followed by a whimper from Italy, who was desperately clinging onto the German's coat.

This one wasn't any different of course as I took my seat next to England, adjusting my fluffy coat and looking up towards the speaker - hardly listening to anything he said. It was just the same crap anyway, so why did we talk about it over and over again? We would complain about our problems, others would get into fights, and then we would "take a break" which essentially means the meeting was over because no one was still calm enough to talk without wanting to kill someone.

I, on the other hand, would just ignore everyone completely. That way there's no problems, right? Pretty good plan in my opinion.

"Oi, America. Pay attention."

"Yeah, yeah alright."

"Hey, you two love birds, can't you wait until _after_ the meeting to make love?" Of course it was France who obnoxiously called out to us, with that devilish smirk of his.

"S-Shut up Shit Beard!" And thus the argument began between the two countries; us witnesses sitting silently in our seats as the scene played out.

"..Why are you and America together anyway? Didn't you two just _hate_ each other back then~?"

_That's right. You were horrible to him._

What?

_Don't you remember his tears?_

That's right, we did fight at one point, but… but that was in the past. I never truly hated him! In fact, I always was in love with him!

That's what I wanted to scream out, but my mouth suddenly moved on its own as I violently threw back my chair, hitting the ground forcefully with a loud thud against the hardwood flooring. My heart was racing, palms were sweating, and the other's eyes were grazing into my very being. Why did those worthless words hurt so much…?

"W-We didn't..!"

_Lies._

"I… We…"

"America?"

_Liar!_

"What's wrong with him?"

"Engla-"

I didn't understand it, but all feeling was slowly draining from my body as my head was dizzying and my vision was going insane. And then, with my body trembling and tears rolling down my paled cheeks... I completely blacked out.

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** I'm sorry it was rather short, and ended on a cliffhanger, but that will mean you want to keep reading right? ;3 Reviews are appreciated, and thank you so much for taking time to read my story! **


	3. The Truth?

**Hello my lovelies! I just wanted to say thank you for reading first of all, and second of all: If there are any pairings or ideas you have, please let me know! I would love to write some more stories as well, and if you have a specific show/pairing you want, let me know either in the reviews or just message me :) (I was thinking of doing a GerIta~) Anway, continue on!**

* * *

"...I-Is he alright, ve~...?"

"Don't poke him Italy."

"But he's shaking Ludi! W-What if he dies?! Oh no, I don't w-"

"The git _will_ wake up. I'll make him!"

"Ohonhon~... Look at Britain taking control! And look at that; he's crying!"

"Shut up you f-fucking frog-face… It's your fault!"

"_My_ fault? He was the one who-"

"H-Hey, he's waking up Germany!"

The voices surrounding me were faint, and all of them were slurring together in a large mass as I slowly began to regain consciousness; the numbness melting away, and I could truly feel the massive knot in my back as I moved uncomfortably along the floor. "Unn.." Were those tears in the corners of my eyes? What the hell happened? Attempting to open my swollen optics, I felt them burn in the presence of light, shutting them almost immediately while gritting my teeth and grinding them together - I needed to get a hold of myself. I didn't want to seem so weak…

Slowly, very slowly, I placed my palms behind me and lifted myself from the ground, my eyes still shut tightly, and a strange silence proceeded to fill the spacious meeting room. Sitting upright for a moment, which seemed like hours, a sudden touch to my face caused my whole body to jerk from shock, feeling a warm digit wipe away the hot tears refusing to stop slipping down my cheeks. As expected, it was none other than England brushing away those salty drops staining my face. My first instinct was to fake a smile, and try to make it seem as though nothing had happened. "Hahaha! Sorry dudes! Things just kind of got crazy, huh?" Peering through my slightly shaking fingers, I looked around to see blank stares of confusion and sympathy, instantly regretting my decision of laughing the whole situation away.

"America…"

"Alright, let's get back to the meeting!"

"Ameri-"

"What's next on the agenda?"

"Dammit America! Stop trying to act like everything is perfectly fine!"

So he could see right through me after all… My smile threatened to disappear as I averted my gaze away from those beautiful, worry-filled emerald eyes, and instead I burned my stare into the ground below; awkwardly fumbling with my fingers as a way to calm myself down. "I-I _am_ fine though, I promise. I just didn't get any sleep, and then when I stood, I just happened to faint…" Damn, that was the lamest excuse I have ever come up with.

"That doesn't explain why you suddenly got so angry," My lover continued, "And I thought you have 'pulled plenty of all-nighters', so why would no sleep suddenly make you collapse?"

How could England so easily and flawlessly find a loophole in my plan?

"I… Well it doesn't matter, because I'm fine now guys! Let's get back to-"

"Alfred," Hearing my full name slip softly and beautifully from his lips caused my head to lift, as well as my heart to violently leap out of my chest - our eyes connecting, and his expression full of… was that _sadness_? "Please, tell me what's going on."

England… How am I to tell you, when I don't know myself?

"I-It's honestly nothing. I bet it was because of that nightmare I had the other night, alright?"

_You liar!_

There it was again, that voice…No, _my_ voice, kept interrupting my thoughts, leaving me with a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach, and overall… It angered me. To the point of wanting to scream, wanting to cry, wanting hurt not only others, but _myself_. Why couldn't I get this voice out of my head?!

I didn't understand how I was a liar, when I didn't even know the truth!

What is happening to me…?

I… I…

"I'm not a fucking liar!"

I found myself lost in thought, returning to the present and trembling violently with my fists clenched, nails digging into my flesh, only to realize I had just screamed aloud for everyone to hear. Once again, a sense of numbness filled the air, and as more sympathizing eyes scanned over me, a voice shattered the silence as relief came over me in a large wave.

"I think the meeting is over for today. Let's meet again in a week or so to finish, _ja_?"

Never had I ever liked Germany more than in that very moment. Nods and noises of agreement coming from others, I hung my head low into my chest, letting much needed oxygen fill up my lungs.

"I hope you feel better Mr. America~!" The Italian's voice rang in my ears as he spoke in his usual excited and cheerful tone, the sudden impact of his body collapsing on mine sending me backwards into the ground, and I could only reply in a brief whisper.

"Thanks dude."

* * *

The walk home was definitely one of the most awkward experiences of my lifetime.

Neither of us said a word as our footsteps hit the paved road, and a few times our eyes would meet; silent understanding flickering deep within the colors of our bright optics. Hand in hand we walked slowly and thoughtfully, passing strangers, who gave us odd looks every now and then (we were used to it though), and different shops or restaurants located within the small, but beautiful, towns. Finally, just as I opened my mouth to speak, my lover's smooth accent hit my ears.

"So, are you sure you're alright now?"

"I think so," I responded quietly and quickly, my eyebrows furrowing as I recalled the whole situation, "I don't really know why that all happened to be honest."

"I see… Hey, America, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"What did you mean when you said you weren't a liar?"

Turning my head to face him, I involuntarily sighed, shaking my head slowly and glancing towards a large crowd surrounding some sort of stand as a way to avoid England's burning, curious gaze.

"I'll be blunt England. I don't know what I meant, or why I suddenly said it. In fact, I'm very confused why that whole 'passing out' thing just happened… Look, can we just forget about it and move on? I think it was because of that nightmare."

"May I ask what your nightmare was about?" With his question, he lightly squeezed my hand, his head tilted, and he wouldn't stop staring at me until he got an answer, being the stubborn Brit he is.

"I really don't want to talk about it England."

"Well, you better tell me _sometime_ you bloody git."

"We'll talk tonight, okay?"

"... Fine," Content with my answer, we continued along, shoving our way through a stream of people coming the opposite way down the road, "And… I'm glad you're alright. You really gave me quite a scare you know. Idiot."

* * *

Scorching hot droplets of water ran down my back as I leaned against the cool tile of the large shower, scratching my scalp and trying to put into words exactly what I was thinking, or feeling, or whatever. What was I going to say to him? 'Hey England, I've been hearing this weird voice in my head telling me I'm a liar'? I think he's worried about me enough, and I didn't want him to think I was completely insane. But, then again, he would want to know the truth, and the details that go along with it… The water was beginning to turn cold at this point, so, turning the squeaky handle, I opened the glass door and was hit with the ice-like air - shivering instantly. Reaching down to grab a fluffy, warm towel that I had assumed England had just taken out of the drier, I wrapped it around my waist and placed my wet feet onto the floor, brushing back my dripping hair with one hand as the other rested on my hip.

I would just tell him what I know, and that will be the end of it.

Now slumped into the covers of our shared bed, I ruffled my darker blonde locks, letting the water drip uncomfortably down my bare neck and pulling on my boxers and sweatpants before looking over at the figure in the rectangular door frame. "Feel better?" He asked me quietly, resulting in a brief nod from me, and my hand was motioning for him to join me. I held my arms out in his direction with a large grin, seeing his eyes roll as usual, and he cautiously crawled onto the mattress; still in his suit he had worn earlier at the meeting. He had begun to sit next to me, but before he could get too comfortable, I instead reached my larger arms around his waist and hoisted him into my lap, helping him unbutton his tight jacket and nuzzling my freshly shaven face against his neck. He would've usually started yelling at me and shoved me away, but given the situation, he simply gave in to my every action.

"So, are you going to talk to me or not?" He softly inquired, raising his eyebrows curiously, and staring backwards into my eyes.

"Yeah, but there's not much to tell. I guess I'll just start with my nightmare…" Taking a large intake of air, I began. "I was sinking into darkness, and I had no idea where the hell I was. I could feel myself crying, but at the same time… I was laughing. Not my usual laugh; it sounded much more forced and, I guess, _creepy_. Not only that, but this voice was telling me how much I hurt someone, and how I deserved this pain I apparently felt in my dream. I don't get it, but I guess it's been haunting me or something…"

I could tell he was trying to take in all of the information I had just told him, as his eyes were darting around the room, and his hands were messing with mine at an irregular pace.

"So, are you sure that's all?"

"That's it."

"Well.. Alright I suppose… Now will you let go of me?"

"Nope~"

"I didn't think so.."

* * *

**Yay for Chapter Three! I hope you all are enjoying the story so far, and I know it may be a bit confusing as to what is going on in that crazy American's head, but I assure you it will be more clear as the story goes on. Anyway, please leave me reviews on how I can improve, and look forward to the next chapter! I love you my lovelies~ **


	4. Confusion Settles In

**Alright, Chapter 4! Thank you for your reviews and constant support and opinions. It truly does help! **

**Unrelated (sorta) to this current story, I have a great idea for a GerIta fic, so let me know if you think I should go for it! :3 **

* * *

Whenever Spring comes around, I always expect rain, but I never anticipated a storm as intense as this… Okay, I guess it wasn't _that_ bad, but I guess I tend to overreact when it comes to heavy storms. Even the hero is allowed to get scared every once in a while, right?

I had just explained everything to England, regarding my dream, and somehow we ended up snuggling into the covers. Kissing. Don't ask me how it happened, because I can't even remember myself. I'm sure I either said something completely cheesy and romantic, or he said something completely perverted (which surprisingly enough, he does a lot). Either way, here we were; unbearably hot and flustered when a sudden echoing noise that shook the whole house caught me completely off-guard. Of course, this noise was none other than thunder, and I immediately jumped away from the other's soft lips in a sudden fear. "A-Ack..!" Cowering underneath the bedsheets was my only option, and I did so extremely quickly, as light poured in through the large glass windows.

"Are you bloody serious? Thunder won't kill you America." England breathed quietly, and I could just imagine him rolling his eyes,

"I-I know but-"

"I thought you were the 'hero'?"

"I am." I hissed softly through the fabric, and silence grew between us for a brief moment.

"Dammit. I hate being interrupted.."

"Sorry.."

"It's not completely your fault. Anyway, I don't think either of us are in the mood any longer."

"Can we just cuddle instead?"

"..Fine." I always loved getting my way, especially when it came to him. Usually it was me who was eager to pull him close but, this time, I curled close to England's chest and listened to his steady heartbeat thump continuously behind his ribs. It was odd, but it seemed to sooth me.

"Goodnight Artie."

"I told you to stop calling me that you twit!"

"Love you too~"

* * *

Just when I thought everything was going back to normal, life decides to change things around for the worse in a matter of seconds.

The sun was just barely peeking through the dull, gray clouds and although I was practically drenched in sweat from the heavy bedsheets tented over my body, my frame was trembling vigorously and refused to quit. I have no idea what caused the sudden tremors, but my head was trying desperately to fit the pieces of this large puzzle together.

_Why?_

"Wh..at?"

_How could you?_

Flashes of bright, blinding lightning filled my eyes completely, but the sound of rolling thunder seemed faint and distant; almost like a memory. I could practically feel the crisp drops of rain prickling my skin as I was trying to take in my surroundings. A destroyed plain drenched in thick puddles of dark mud, and smoke was rising from certain patches of ground. Or perhaps it was mist..? Where exactly was I?

"Oi, you stupid tosser! Quick kicking me!"

Looking around in a panic, only to see barren wasteland in my range of view, I realized the voice wasn't part of the dream at all, and it quickly yanked me up back towards reality.

Once again I awoke from the frightening nightmare in a panting mess. "Shit, again?" I cursed under my breath and between gritted teeth, looking towards the Englishman who was rubbing his reddened eyes and practically falling off the edge of our bed. "Sorry dude." He only 'humphed' in response and threw the covers into my face angrily, muttering inaudible insults in my direction. Another dream that went right over my head, and only confused me further. Just what exactly did these both mean? Looking around with my ocean-like eyes, they caught sight of the small drops along the glass of the window, sticking to it and slowly dripping downward until it fell to the cement below, never to be seen again. Recalling the environment I had experienced in my sleep, I could remember the mist surrounding me, and the droplets of ice-cold rain pouring from above. It all felt so familiar, and so real. As if I could sink into the mud beneath my feet, and disappear forever…

The first dream, however, left me completely confused. After all, it was only darkness, and laughter… _Laughter._ That's right, I was laughing at my own pain, saying how much I deserved it. But, what had I done to want to feel so miserable? Then, the voices. Saying continuously that I was a liar, and hurting someone; "How could you?" "You destroyed him."

"Liar… Liar…_ Liar_..!"

I could feel the pain of my head beginning to sneak in as I opened my eyes, foggy vision and hearing focusing back in as a loud, yelling voice caught my attention. "..ou even listening?!"

"What?"

"God, you are helpless."

My lover was staring me down with a mug of something in his hand, shoving it into my chest as the steam rose and hit my nostrils, "Hot cocoa." He explained, but I didn't look up into his face - every time I tried, this ache would swell inside of my chest.

"Thank you." I simply cooed, sipping the scorching drink happily as the lovely, warm and tingling feeling washed over my figure. The pitter patter sound of the storm constantly poured into our bedroom as I quickly glanced towards England, flashing him a smile as best I could and still be genuine. "Sorry for yelling." He suddenly murmured, and I nearly choked on my hot chocolate, wiping my mouth clean and finding the right words to speak through coughs. "Is it that odd for me to apologize?" He inquired, and I shook my head rapidly, a chuckle rumbling within my throat with every passing second.

"I-It's cool man. I shouldn't have kicked you."

"Well it wasn't your fault, after all. You were having a night terror… Was..Was it bad again?"

Clutching the mug, I sighed momentarily before replying. It wasn't exactly horrible, but it still left me with unanswered questions.

"Nope." I suddenly blurted out, catching myself off-guard with the immediate confidence, but I stuck with my answer. Apparently my mouth really does have a mind of its own.

"That's good to hear at least. Come on, let's do something, yeah?"

Still oddly dumbfounded that I didn't honestly answer, I nodded, gazing up into those captivating green eyes that always lured me in…

"A-Alright. I'll be right down."

"Where-"

I found myself needing to get away from England's soft voice and sweet smile. I had just lied to his face, when I meant to tell him I wasn't feeling well at all. I felt frustrated, not with him, but with myself. The anger was beginning to increase, and I needed to put an end to it before I completely took it out on the worried Brit approaching me.

Peeling away the slightly damp covers from my sweaty night, I briskly strolled towards the bathroom to splash my face with cold, fresh water, looking into the mirror and observing my pale features with a frightening glare, and my lips were curling into a scowl. I looked absolutely insane. Was this really me?

_You lied again America._

_In fact, your whole life consists of lies…_

* * *

**The plot thickens... Sorry if the story seems to be going rather slow right now, but I promise I will speed it up! - Oh, and side note, America is not going all 'murderous killer' insane. He's just confused (poor guy :c ). Any whooooo~ Please leave me some reviews because believe it or not, I get freaked out whether or not you lovelies like my writing. XD Until next chapter! :D **


	5. Breaking Point

"What is happening to me?!"

"America?"

Slamming my fist down onto the counter, I continued to stare into my horrifying face, my tongue dry and mouth agape with heavy breaths leaving it.

"America?" England called out to me again, hearing his rapid footsteps snake their way up the stairs and into our room as he ran towards me with his worried tone. "America, what-"

I couldn't stand it anymore. The feeling of anger and agony wouldn't leave me as I continued staring at my own ugly reflection, lifting my hand and promptly jutting my fist forward into the glass which resulted in a large echoing sound of shattering, and the mirror sprayed in all directions of the small bathroom. I could feel the cold edges dig into my flesh, but I didn't mind it. In fact, in a way, it almost felt good. Like I deserved everything I was feeling… But _why_? Why did I deserve to feel this way?

_Why._

_Why..._

_Why…?_

That's all I could ask myself as blood ran down my knuckles and into the glass-filled sink, England standing in the doorframe utterly speechless and terrified as I lowered my head to escape his look of pure horror. "I need **answers!**" I screeched at the top of my lungs, feeling my breath hitch inside of my chest with every word. My heart was beginning to ache horribly as tears began to pool at the corner of my eyes, and slowly I lost control of my body. Falling into the glass beneath me, I began to endlessly sob into my crimson-stained hands, hyperventilating as all calmness left my weary body.

"Alfred…"

"Don't come near me!"

"Al?"

"Please Artie.."

"You're not a monster. You're just confused about something…"

"I'm s-so confused…"

A crunching noise of breaking glass approached me as my lover wrapped his warm arms around my head, cradling me into his chest as I continued to cry. I didn't understand any of this; these feelings, these dreams, _nothing_ made sense to me. I had never felt so completely broken and weak. "I love you Alfred." England continuously cooed into my ear, kissing the top of my head with such compassion I never thought would be possible for him. Unable to speak, or even breathe, I simply continued letting out the tears that poured from my sharp eyes, squeezing them shut in attempts to shut out the world. It was just me and England…

A sharp pain, almost like a stab, hit me in the chest as my eyes shot open, looking around desperately and releasing a blood-curdling scream of misery. Something within me was trying to crawl out and take over my thoughts, but I just didn't know what. It was like I had pushed something away and tried to forget, but it was coming back to haunt me. I was tired of not knowing what this feeling was. I needed to figure out why I felt so guilty all of the time, and why I felt as if I needed pain.

"Help me.." I murmured through tears, looking up towards Arthur with a desperate need in my eyes, "P-please…?" His own piercing orbs were swimming with deep sympathy and worry as he tightened his grip around me, leaning in towards my ear to whisper sweet nothings that comforted me all the same.

"Of course America. I promise we will figure this out _together._"

"Th-e voice w-won't stop..!"

"Shush… It's alright Alfred.."

* * *

"G-Geez! It hurts!"

"I know, I know, just bare with it a little longer."

Everywhere was stinging and burning as England placed bandages across my body, trying to heal up the multiple cuts as well as pulling out small glass shards with tweezers cold as ice. Biting down on my lower lip as hard as I could until I could almost taste blood, I felt the last of the glass leave my body, and I stared down at my broken self. The places that weren't bandaged were covered in purple bruises where I had collapsed, and my hand was tightly wrapped in gauze that was already turning red from the blood beginning to seep through.

"What exactly happened back there?"

Flinching as the last bandage was placed, I averted my eyes towards the window where the spring trees were softly beginning to sway in the breeze, without a care in the world. If only I could feel so free as those trees right now… Instead I feel trapped and lost.

"My dream was actually really…terrifying."

"Then why did you lie to me?"

There was that word again: Lie.

The word that would continue to haunt me for days on end.

"I didn't mean to… I just didn't want you to worry."

"Oh, and punching a mirror and hurting yourself _wouldn't_ make me worry? Git."

"Look, I'm _sorry_.. I'll just.. explain the dream now, okay? Basically I was just standing in this burning field in the middle of a down pour, but it all felt so familiar and real… No one was in sight, but I remember seeing blood and mud covering the ground…"

"A burning field?" England asked me, and I nodded as a response, swallowing my saliva to re-wet my extremely dry mouth. "And it felt as if you had been there before?"

"Y-Yeah."

England absentmindedly gazed around the room for a moment before he shook his head; just as lost as I was. "That's all swell, but I just don't understand why these simple dreams seem to be hurting you so badly. Mentally and physically."

"I don't get it either. I..I guess the voice has made it worse."

"Explain?"

"Well, it keeps telling me I'm a liar, in regards to you. Like, at the meeting. It was because France said something about us hating each other I flipped out. And then when I lied specifically to you, I felt so guilty about it."

"But, you know I forgive you America."

"I know, but then I told myself.. my whole life consists of lies…"

That seemed to stump us both to the point of silence, so without so much as a word, I stood from my place and began to pace around the kitchen area in distress. It's like I was gathering clues, but I still didn't understand what they all led up to. So, chugging a glass of fresh water, I kissed England on the head before pulling on my brown coat and opening the wooden front doors.

"Heading out?"

"Yeah. I just need to think things through."

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**Thank you for reading! Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated. :3**

**Hopefully the next chapter will be out soon! **

**Until then my lovelies~**


	6. A Vague Memory

Walking briskly down the narrowed roads with my footsteps echoing off the walls of nearby buildings, I could faintly smell the blooming spring flowers that were beginning to bud in the grass and up in the trees. The sun was desperately trying to appear through the gray clouds that provided a canopy over the city of London, and I could only helplessly give in to the gloomy atmosphere surrounding the people and myself. I would occasionally ram into pedestrians without meaning to due to my thoughts racing crazily within my mind. It was like everything was slowly sinking down, and this constricted feeling building up in my lungs was too much for me to handle, but I could only walk faster in hopes to rid myself of these depressing feelings. Wasn't I supposed to be the happy-go-lucky hero?

Arriving at a small coffee shop, I decided to go inside and maybe grab something to drink and just sit down and go through what has been happening these last couple of weeks. Ordering something quietly as well as paying, I finally found myself a secluded seat and slumped down into the uncomfortable wooden chair provided.

First thing's first. The dreams. I had already went through the events, but nothing came to mind regarding the second nightmare. A burning field, and a storm… Something about it seemed so familiar, so maybe I would delve deeper into that.

Next, the strange voices. It's not someone else's voice; it's mine. And that's what was bothering me so much. All it seemed to tell me was two things: I was a liar, and I hurt someone deeply. Of course, like anyone, I have lied in the past and I'm sure I will again in the future… But I always apologized to whoever I had lied to, so who could I have possibly hurt?

Perhaps my brother, Matthew? Sure, I wasn't so great to him back then, but it was my way of showing I care for him. After all, he seemed so happy when we spent time together even doing trivial and small things like playing catch with a baseball.

Maybe it was someone like Italy? I sure didn't treat him nicely during the war, and I don't think I ever apologized for that, but he already seems to have forgiven me being the carefree kind of guy he is.

_England._

The voice harshly whispered, seeming to come from all sides and sending shivers up my spine.

England? Could it really be..?

The thought wouldn't leave me as I stared helplessly into my steaming cup of coffee, more questions popping up in my mind and leaving me completely baffled in every way.

How had I hurt him? Was I doing something wrong? Had I said something?

I didn't know what it was, but I needed to find out.

* * *

"Ah, you're back. Just in time too. Help me with this, will you?"

Returning from my long stroll I saw England attempting to set up a ladder; apparently doing some handiwork around the house. Nodding briefly, I walked towards him and held the large metal ladder steady as he stepped up onto it, fixing what appeared to be a light along the edge of the roof. The guilt was slowly seeping in as I stared up into his surprisingly cheerful face, tilting my head curiously as these thoughts filled my mind. I had almost grown accustom to them by now to be honest.

"Careful coming down!" I called up to him, reaching up my hand and helping him step down the last few footholds before he landed once more on solid ground. "Thank you." He muttered, letting go of my hand much to my dismay. Something like a large, shocking pulse was sent throughout my body suddenly as a loud ringing in my ears grew more and more present, every second slowly slipping away as the environment swirled and shrunk in mesmerizing patterns that hurt my eyes. My feet felt like they were sinking into thick mud, and I could almost feel a cold, misty breeze prick my bare skin…

"D-Don't leave me England!" I heard myself cry out in a blurr, "D-Do..Don't.."

"America!"

I promptly fell to my knees as the wave of despair washed over me, and all these emotions were mixing with one another until I didn't even have the energy to scream or shed any tears. It was just pure terror as the haunting scene played out. Bodies lying everywhere, blood covering the dirt and burnt fields… It was a wasteland found in a horror film. But it wasn't fake - it was reality.

"Eng.."

"I'm right here, I'm not leaving you twit."

Slowly finding my way back into the city of London, I found my face collapsed into the Brit's chest, struggling to breath as he awkwardly cradled me into his arms.

"God, you're such a _pain_, you know that?" He quietly teased, but it almost stung me.

"I-I'm sorry.." I managed, coughing quietly into his shirt and attempting to regain any composure I had left.

What exactly just happened?

I think I've… I've been there before…

It was like an old, forgotten memory was making it's way back to haunt me.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for following and reviewing~ **

**Seems like America is slowly figuring things out, huh? **

**See you next chapter! :3**


	7. Cruel Reality

**Warning for this Chapter: Violence. That's all I'm going to say, because I don't want to spoil anything. I don't mean to offend anyone, but I just want to show the deep emotion America is feeling. If you have any concerns, please message me. **

* * *

Day after day passed of England treating me like a child who was horribly sick, telling me I needed to see a doctor, and I needed to get 'help', when I knew I was the only one who could figure this out. No doctor could prescribe me with some medication to take these feelings away. No, this was all up to me and me alone. However, all hope seemed lost as we arrived at the world conference as promised they would resume last week. Every country was staring at me with bright eyes of faith, but England shook his head and shooed them away, telling them to 'give me some space'. "I'm not contagious.." I teased quietly, hoping to lighten the mood even just a little bit.

"Ah, so he did show up~?" I could distinguish the Frenchman's voice from a mile away - I think anyone could to be honest. I didn't reply, for both our sakes, but he kept pushing me further to breaking as I sat down uncomfortably in the large seats provided. He wasn't provoking me exactly, but we all knew who he was after. "Britain, why are you with America huh? Why won't you come and be with me~?" "Like I would ever want to." England retorted immediately, crossing his arms and sitting himself down in between me and France.

"But I was never so horrible to you as he was back then!" France pleaded in a whining voice, taking England's hand and attempting to seduce him with his sly words. Something within me began stirring - a mix between anger and regret. I tried to shut my mouth and bite my tongue, but my tolerance for him was quickly fading.

"I'm beggin you Arthur, I love you~.."

"Like hell you do!"

"More than _he_ ever will.. Isn't he just a pain Arthur~?"

That was it. I completely snapped. Everything was a blur as I jumped up from my seat in a bitter rage, wrapping my hand around France's throat and backing him up towards the wall, pressing his head into the wallpaper roughly. He was caught off guard, but he still wore that handsome, mocking smirk across his lips. Breathing right into his face, I tightened my grip, staring right into his face with gritted teeth. "You shut your fucking mouth!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, causing my voice to break, "I have _never_ hurt him!"

"Ohonhon… That's where you're wrong _mon ami~_.."

"What are you-"

"How could you forget the war?"

The...War..?

_Don't you remember America?_

And that's when the puzzle pieces were finally connected.

"T-The.."

Letting go of the other's neck, I staggered backwards, eyes widened in pure horror of everything coming together and finally making sense.

Everything was finally so clear; every horrible thing I had done.

"Oh my god..."

I remember those many years ago, promising myself to forget about the war, and move on. Telling myself to never remember what awful things I had done to the one I loved most.

Telling myself everything was okay, when in reality it wasn't. Nothing was.

Every breath was violently hitching in my chest, to the point where my lungs were burning, and everyone was trying to help me not to fall over right then and there. England reached out to touch my bandaged arm, but his fingers felt like fire to my flesh. It hurt to even catch a glance of his innocent face. The face which I had tried to kill those many years ago…

"N..No!"

"What did he say to you America?!"

"D-Don't touch me!"

Yanking myself away from the other country's grip I slipped slightly on the marble below and made a run for it, sprinting quickly towards the door without a second thought and leaving it wide open behind me.

_Does it all make sense now? What a horrible person you are?_

Running through the streets without regret, I instinctively came to the doorstep of England and I's shared home, turning the golden knob and creeping my way in to the inviting darkness that practically called my name.

The dreams and flashbacks now seemed perfectly normal, and the clues were in front of me all along! How could I have not known? The burning field, the bodies, the blood, the war. I had almost brutally destroyed England mercilessly, and he spared me my life when he could've taken it away. And what did I do in return? I treated him like trash, and spent most of my life showing him how superior I truly was.

I didn't even try to apologize. Instead, I continued living my life as one great big lie.

I was right when I told myself my whole life consisted of lies.

I lied when I told everyone how victorious I felt seeing his crying face, when it really broke my heart to see the one who took care of me look so broken.

I lied when I told myself I was happy, when in fact I had never been more empty without him.

And now, every time I see him, I'm filled with that guilt of stepping all over him without one word of apology. And I tell him that I _love_ him? What kind of sick, horrible, disgusting person am I?

* * *

Slowly crawling up the stairs towards the bathroom where glass shards still littered the floor, I cautiously slid into the room and sat in the corner, reaching hesitantly towards a large chunk of glass and observing it… I could just barely make out my reflection in the darkness, but I quickly turned away from my hideous face. I couldn't live with the fact that I never lived up to what I had done in the past, and the cruel reality that I dare say that I'm in love with England when I have hurt him so deeply for so many years. For centuries he said he cried over me, missed me, wanted me to be the America I used to be… I wish I could go back. I wish he would have killed me right then and there.

_Do you feel guilty America?_

Yeah... I do.

_What are you going to do about it? Don't you think you should be punished?_

Yeah, I should be. In fact I'll punish myself right here…

Putting my fingertip at the sharp end of the inviting glass shard, I carefully removed the bandages along my hand and arm, letting them fall to the floor and swallowing the large lump in the back of my throat before pressing the sharp point to my skin. In one swift motion of my wrist, I felt my flesh open and rip apart, sending a burning sensation to fill my body. God, it hurt so bad, but I felt so… happy. I repeated the process multiple times, reopening old wounds and creating new ones until my tan skin was covered in thick crimson that slowly rolled down my arm and dripped onto the tile below. Slash after slash felt more amazing to the point that I wanted to smile, and laugh with an absolute joy that filled up my heart.

_I deserve this. I deserve this!_

I repeated to myself, a low chuckle filling the room as tears filled up my already swollen eyes.

Salty drops rolled down my face in a stream, and choked laughter continued to pass through my lips as each cut grew deeper… I just wanted to repay my debt.

As quickly as it had come, the laughter subsided and the pain began to seep in, looking down in horror at what I had truly just done. I had to process my racing thoughts before the image of my mutilated arm took its toll on me, and I ended up chucking the piece of bloodied glass as far away from me as possible - letting it hit the bedside table in the other room. Although my loud laughter was silenced, the crying continued more intensely. It was a strange feeling; guilt.

Pulling my knees up to my chest, my blurry eyes darted around the room in distress, trying to figure out what to do, and if this was just all a sick dream.

I wasn't the hero anymore.

_I needed one._


	8. Overwhelming Emotions

I was completely shattered, broken, and dying… As if the whole world was sinking beneath my feet, waiting to swallow me up and take me away. I wish it would at this point. I couldn't handle this guilt eating away at my very being… What had I done? I completely ruined the one I hold most dear, and I never thought anything of it. I lived my life in denial, telling myself I was alright; that everything was perfectly fine… Lies, lies, _lies_.

The lights around me were off and I was enveloped in darkness, waiting for a noise to wake me from this horrible state of shock. To have Francis of all people remind me of my sick past… Well, it was too much to say the least. So, here I sat constantly waiting. Waiting for what? I'm not so sure. Waiting for _him_ I suppose. The silence was beginning to consume me with each passing second and the hot air around me constricted my lungs... Everything hurt. _Everything_.

After minutes of slowly rocking back and forth, my wounds becoming more and more painful, I finally heard something below me. Voices entering the home and rapid footsteps being heard in every corner. I honestly couldn't tell if these were my imagination at all, considering I have already been hearing voices almost everyday... "Alfred!" The voice rung so clearly in my ears that it couldn't have been a dream, or some odd hallucination. No, it was him. And to be honest, seeing him right now worried me above anything else.

"Where the hell are you?! Answer me! _Please_!" His voice was sick with worry and panic, but before I could even open my mouth to tell of my location, his golden head of hair appeared around the corner and his eyes were set on mine. Almost immediately my stomach began to churn with a nauseated sensation that sent shivers down my spine. I couldn't bare to look at him much longer. As England took in the scene in the bathroom I could tell he was in utter shock. He froze in his spot, mouth open, and his breathing began to quicken to the point where I could hear it. "A..America?" I didn't respond. What could I say?

His steps came closer much to my dismay and I saw in my peripheral vision his hand beginning to extend towards my bloodied arm. As much as I wanted to pull it away, I was unable to move. His hand slowly touched my skin and the guilt began to manifest itself into agonizing pain. Every time he touched me I felt this burning that spread along my flesh, and he could see he was hurting me; regardless of touching my wounds. "D..don't.." I mouthed, but he continued anyways. I could tell he was disappointed in me, and he would probably hate me after all I had done to him. Retrieving a wash cloth from the bathtub, and being careful of the broken glass, he cautiously dampened it and placed it on my numerous cuts which sent relief over my weary figure. Yeah, it hurt like a bitch, but the cold feeling made it bearable for at least a little while.

"Why?" I heard the Englishman ask softly, being mindful of my unstable emotions, "Why did you do this to yourself America?"

"You know why." I muttered, making sure our eyes didn't meet.

"No, quite honestly, I don't! Why would you hurt yourself Alfred? Where does this get you?"

I could tell by him raising his voice he hated me now. I was probably just a constant pain and only caused him trouble. Why would anyone as amazing as him love me in return?

"I.. It's punishment."

"Punishment? For _what_?"

"...Everything I've done."

"Which is?"

My heart was racing crazily behind my ribs and the sense of frustration started to take its toll. He was just playing games with me, trying to make me admit what I'd done so that he could _leave me_! I refused to answer.

When silence came over us once more, England decided to break it. I wish he hadn't; I'd rather just sit here until I die. That would be nice...

"What happened back there Alfred?" The anger was continuing to grow,

"You _know_ what happened. You heard him yourself!"

"I couldn't hear anything, so tell me what's going on! This is too much, seeing you like this. You think it doesn't hurt me?!"

"**The War!**" I screamed at the top of my lungs, hearing my voice crack through my extremely dry throat. All of my dangerous emotions were beginning to bubble over and I needed to get away. _Now_. But why couldn't I move?

"What...? The.. The War?"

"You heard me."

As soon as I spoke, he released his grip on my arm and put aside the cloth, staring at me with those forest green eyes that I adored so much... I couldn't look at them though. It hurt too much.

"You did this to yourself because... Because of the War?" I obviously didn't have to answer again. I had already made myself clear.

"Alfred.." I suddenly felt his warm hand underneath my chin and he tried to force me to look into his eyes, which sent my weak heart to pound vigorously and my composure was slipping away. No. _No_. The horrific guilt was growing until I felt tears prickle at the corner of my eyes, and I tried to yank away from his grip, but right now he was too strong. "P-please..! Let go!" I begged through hiccups, squeezing my eyes shut, "I can't l-look at you!" Heaving a small sigh, England hoisted his small arms around my neck as means of comfort, but it hurt me more than he could imagine. "H-hurts..!"

"Alfred, it hurts me too... I don't want to see you in so much pain. I-"

"Get **off**!" Collecting all of my strength, I roughly shoved him off of my body until he collapsed into the glass below with a shocked expression on his face. That's when I made my escape as I scrambled to my feet and dashed away. I didn't make it far, however, because of the empty feeling that weakened me. Sliding into the corner of the bedroom farthest away from where England was, I maintained my position once more and I curled up into my own body in despair.

_See? You hurt him again. You're horrible._

I know I am. I admit it. I finally admit it.

I heard the glass begin to move in the distance and I could only assume that England was trying to find me again. It was like a twisted game of hide-and-seek. But I was desperate not to be found.

"I'm sorry America.." He whispered, seeing the piece of glass covered in dried blood by the bedside table across from me. I watched him pick it up with a frown and shove it into his pocket, trying to force a pained smile and make his way towards me.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have forced myself upon you." He said calmly, eyes watering as he looked at my broken body. Why was _he_ apologizing? Shouldn't _I_ be? Shouldn't I explain all of the horrible things I've done to him, and how I'm just a lying bastard who doesn't deserve to be with him? I might as well tell him that I can't be with him anymore no matter how much I want to, because he will hate me anyway. But instead of pouring out all of those words of hate against myself, I simply looked up, lip quivering, and uttered "I'm so sorry."

And that's when the tears began on both our parts. Mine much more painful and violent so that I could hardly breathe, and his silent; rolling down his pale face.

"I'm so sorry..." I repeated several times with hot tears drenching my cheeks, "England I-"

"I know America. I'll let you explain later... Do those hurt?" He asked, gently touching my mutilated arm which stung with every move I made,

"_Everything_ hurts.."

* * *

**Hello my lovelies! I am so sorry for this extremely late update! With the Holidays it has been very hectic, and it has been nearly impossible for me to just sit down and write.**

**Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I personally thought it turned out great, and the tension is really thick huh? I promise there will be a resolve soon though c: **

**Until next chapter! Love you all~**

**-Feli/Sarah**


	9. Misunderstandings

Somehow I managed to crawl into bed. Alone. There was no way I would be able to be with England after the whole ordeal, so I ordered him to sleep downstairs. Yeah, probably a selfish move on my part, but my whole life is a pathetic, selfish sob story that no one should even care about. I am such a worthless excuse for a country. All I do is disappoint the ones I want to please most, so what's the point?

After a while I heard a gentle knock at my door and quickly shut my eyes to fake being completely asleep. His feet moved quietly along the ground as he approached me, his warm breath hitting my face and a soft kiss being placed upon my cheek. It burned. And not a good, soothing burn. No, it was a burn full of guilt and self-hatred. I hated that kiss. But I still found myself reaching up to grab his sleeve as he turned to leave our bedroom. I didn't find the courage to speak, but by the look in his face, no words were needed. He just took his spot next to mine, after re-arranging some pillows, and combed his slim fingers through my dusty blonde hair.

"Do you think you can tell me what's going on?"

The solemnity in his voice scared me. His voice wavered as if he was nervous to hear the answer. Quite frankly, I was too.

"I… I lied." Was all I could manage in the darkness, breathing the words as weakly as possible and hoping he hadn't heard me. Much to my dismay, he had heard me perfectly clear.

"What do you mean?"

Swallowing the knot in my throat, I tried my best to find the correct words to express every one of my sick, crazy thoughts. My mind was racing, and it obviously showed on my face as England was looking at me with an odd expression of his own.

"I-I mean… I've lied to you over all of these years."

Large eyebrows furrowing, I immediately knew he misunderstood what I had said. Again, I had messed something up. Just how much more could I ruin our relationship?

"What exactly do you mean by that America?" England was trying to hold in his anger as he spoke to me, emerald eyes narrowing in my direction.

"I d-didn't mean-"

"So what_ do_ you mean? When I'm told I've been lied to, what am I supposed to think?"

"England, I'm not saying I was lying about my feelings for you! I just-"

"You just what?!"

"Stop interrupting me! I'm trying to explain but you won't let me Arthur!"

Both of us red-faced and slightly enraged, I took the opportunity to breathe in fresh oxygen that my body needed, releasing it soon afterward. Pushing up my slipping glasses, I continued, this time thinking before speaking. I couldn't afford to have another idiotic outburst. We sat in silence for a moment before I started again.

"I said I was lying to you, but really I was lying to myself. About my happiness. All those years ago-"

"Your happiness?" I heard his accent cut me off once more, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"England, that's not what I meant. Not my happiness with you, but with_ myself_."

He still seemed skeptical, which worried me even further.

"You sure you aren't _lying_ to me?" He spat, scoffing in my direction before turning to face the wall. I felt furious - was this all a joke to him?

"You know, this isn't about you England. It's about me!"

"It always is, isn't it?!"

"For fuck's sake!"

"You know, this isn't getting anywhere."

Storming towards the door, England threw it open before quickly slamming it; silence filling the bedroom once more. I wanted to scream to him that I didn't mean it, that I loved him, but I was being a coward. I couldn't speak, let alone breathe, and it was all my damn fault I didn't go after him. I needed to go and apologize, but my limbs were numb and refused to move one inch. It's like my body was trying to catch up with my mind, but that seemed impossible. My thoughts were flying so fast I couldn't keep up…

* * *

I just sat soundlessly for hours, staring at nothing, thinking of nothing, wanting to do nothing. I dreaded the moment when I had to go downstairs and look him in the eye, spilling out apologies like a mess. And even then I knew he wouldn't forgive me, and he would probably throw me out on the streets when I told him the total truth.

The truth about how much I loved him more than a brother, even when I was young.

How much it hurt to leave, but I wanted to show how strong I could become.

How much it killed me to see his tears, and how it hurt to smile at his pain.

How many nightmares it caused me.

How I had told myself it made me happy to defeat him.

How much I truly, deeply _loved_ him, but I had hurt him regardless…

The sound of my phone threw me off as my body jerked from surprise, digging in my drawer to find it and answering it rapidly. Clearing my throat, I spoke. "H-Hello?" I muttered into the phone, noticing my voice sounded feeble and tired, "Hey Al." The voice on the other end was very soft and gentle, soothing me just a tiny bit. I could tell it was my brother, but why was he calling?

"Look, I'm just gonna be honest," He said thoughtfully, and I could hear him sigh, "England called me. He's worried, America. I am too after the way he spoke."

"England called you?"

"Yes... He said he wanted you to… get someone to talk to. A therapist is what he suggested."

Did they both think I was bat-shit_ insane_ or something?

"A...He said I needed a therapist..?"

A nauseating silence filled the receiver as I waited for a reply, but instead I was just hit with another question.

"Alfred… Did you really.. hurt yourself?"

The question stung me like a needle, causing my heart to ache briefly. I assumed my silence was enough for an answer.

"..America, I already found you someone. I want you to call me in the morning and I'll give you more information. I just want to see you happy again."

"...Yeah, me too," I stifled a pained chuckle, "But it's killing me dude."

"And that's why both England and I want to help you."

"England probably hates me."

"..What?"

I paused, taking a shuddering intake of air as the tears began to bubble at the corners of my sky-blue eyes, "We..had a b-bit of a fight today. Not to mention everything I've done Matthew.. It's driving me crazy.."

"As I said, that's why we're finding help for you-"

"What if it_ doesn't_ help?!"

"..It-"

"What if things just get worse? What if-"

"Alfred, please calm down. Just do this for me, alright?"

"...Fine. I'll call you in the morning then."

"Good. Please don't do anything dangerous."

"I won't. See ya."

Slumping into the pillows behind me, I chucked my phone down back into the drawer with an echoing thud filling my ears, but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything anymore. A therapist? Am I that messed up that I need professional help?

An apology to England; that's all it took. As much as I kept saying that, the very thought of facing him made me want to throw up.

Just how much longer was this torture going to last?

* * *

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I feel horrible doing this to America in all honesty :( But, he has people who care about him, so it will all be alright!**

**Anyway, sorry for the large amount of dialogue in this chapter, but it had to be done. Please leave a review if you have the time. They make me smile :3 **

**Until next chapter my lovelies~! **

**-Feli**


	10. A Helping Hand

The morning came much too quickly for my liking. Before I knew it I had my hand wrapped around my phone, clutching it tightly and holding it to my ear, listening to it ring on the other line. It seemed my brother was expecting my call as he picked up after just a few rings.

"Good morning Alfred."

"Hey Matthew."

I heard him clear his throat warily, not wanting to upset me any further. I appreciated it, sure, but I wasn't a child anymore. I just wanted to get this over with.

"So, um, the information then." Grabbing a piece of paper and setting it on my lap, I wrote down an address and proceeded to stay silent throughout the whole conversation. I never agreed to this in the first place, and I felt forced, but that didn't mean I wouldn't listen to my brother and what he had to say. After all, I knew he was trying to help.

"Thanks dude." I spoke up after he was done, trying to finish the phone call before he started a whole new lecture.

"Please tell me how it goes, alright?"

"Yeah, I will."

After we both hung up I set my phone on the bedside table heaving a heavy sigh and slumping forward in defeat. I had several hours before I had to find this 'therapist' and I felt pretty hungry, especially after not eating for more than twenty-four hours, so I figured I would just creep downstairs and take something. I was hesitant only because I didn't want to run into England, but I made up my mind after hearing my stomach growl beneath the covers. I didn't even take the time to fix my appearance because, quite frankly, I couldn't care less. He probably didn't want to see me either, so what was the point?

Lazily stumbling towards the door and swinging it open I tried not to cause any creaks as I walked along the floorboards, being extra cautious to not be seen. Unfortunately, I could already see his shadow spread along the floor as I approached the kitchen. Just my luck. Peering around the corner, our eyes met. His widened and darted away before I could blink, and I instantly did the same. Gliding to the cabinet to search for food, I opened my mouth as if to say something, but quickly closed it as I thought better. Knowing me, I would've said something to piss him off even more.

"M..Morning."

His voice completely caught me off guard and I jumped in my spot, practically hitting my head on the open cabinet. Did I imagine that? Usually after a fight he won't talk to me for hours, but now he was the first one to say something.

_Respond you idiot!_

Rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly, I reached for a loaf of bread in the shelf and went towards the toaster before confidently saying anything out loud.

"Yeah, morning."

An odd tension seemed to fill the air and I took my seat across from the Brit, looking up at him often, but his eyes were intensely staring into the daily paper.

"Er, I have to go in a couple hours… Just so you know."

"...Alright." He responded after a moment, sipping on his hot tea and disappearing back into the words as a distraction. I took that as my cue to be quiet and I ate my small breakfast without speaking before it was time to get ready. The wind outside was starting to stir and I could only assume a storm was beginning to pick up, so I figured casual clothes would be fine. Especially since I was going to someone who thought I was messed up anyway, I'm sure they wouldn't care about how I looked.

Briefly cleaning my plate and running back up the stairs, I rummaged through the closet and threw something together without really taking a second glance and pulled it on. A quick check in a small mirror and I was good to go. Time to feel even worse about myself.

* * *

Wandering the streets of London was never an easy job to begin with and it only made things more embarrassing when I asked where a certain therapist's office was. It turned out I wasn't too far away from the start, but I had been searching in the wrong places. Whether that was on purpose or by accident, I'll never know.

Soon enough I was at the door leading inside, and I could only imagine the looks I was getting from strangers walking by. Reaching towards the handle I pushed my way inside, and I had to admit, it was a lot more inviting than I would've thought. The lights were dimmed and warm, and large couches were set everywhere. If there were a large tv, I probably would have called it home.

"Welcome!" A cheerful voice chimed from behind a desk, taking me away from my thoughts and instead focusing on a woman behind a glass door. She slid it open for me and shook my hand heartily before sliding a piece of paper across the desk. "Fill this out for me please. We just need basic information to put in our system."

I nodded and nervously took a pen she offered, making my way towards one of those couches and plopping myself down into it. It was extremely soft and I wish I could have just melted into it. I didn't want to pour out my life story to someone I didn't even know… And it would be extremely confusing to explain that I was alive during the Revolution, considering my appearance. But, I promised I would do this for my brother. And I never break promises.

After filling out a tedious information sheet and returning to the woman, I was just about to sit back down when another woman opened the door which I assumed led into her office space. Her hair was golden, much like England's, and extremely wavy. As she looked towards me, her smile was flawless. She sure was pretty, but I wasn't getting any ideas. Was it wrong for me to think girls looked nice?

"Alfred, right?"

"That's me."

"Very nice to meet you. Come on in. Last door on the left."

Winding my way through the hall wasn't difficult and I quickly found myself in her 'office' of sorts, complete with a large couch, a couple of chairs and a lamp. It was rather homey, and kind of smelled like freshly baked cookies. I couldn't complain to be honest. She took a seat in front of me with a pad of paper and I sat down on the couch similar to the ones in the lobby.

"Alfred F. Jones. This is your full name, correct?"

"Yes."

"Great! Now, your brother called in for you and gave us a bit of information, just so that we could fill out the form properly in our system as you were already told."

What exactly did Matthew say to them..?

"...You're nineteen years old?"

"Yep."

"And I can only assume you're from the United States, correct?" She added a small chuckle, just to lighten the mood slightly.

"I guess my accent gave it away?" I laughed in return, trying to calm my racing nerves.

"I suppose so! Anyway, your brother also told us you have a lover by the name of Arthur Kirkland. Is this correct as well?"

"Y-Yes.."

"And, tell me if I'm wrong, but is your lover another male?"

I swallowed, "Well.. Yes.. B-" Before I could get another word out, she held up her small hand to stop me, her smile warm and telling me everything was alright.

"Alfred, I never said I was against it. In fact, I'm happy that you found someone that you deeply care for. Love is love, in my humble opinion, and it doesn't matter if male or female."

A sudden sensation of relief came over me as I nodded, a small smile of my own appearing. "Exactly! T-Thank you."

"I'm only being honest. Oh, perhaps I should tell you my own name. Sorry I didn't introduce myself properly. Rose Kinlan. Just call me Rose please."

"Rose. Nice to meet you."

"You too. Now, let's get started. Your brother mentioned quite a few things, but I'd rather hear them from you. I know it will be difficult, but I want you to try. From the beginning if you will."

Her words were starting to slur in my mind as I came to the realization of having to speak my feelings and emotions. As she said, it was going to be extremely difficult, and what if I couldn't do it..?

"I..It started off as nightmares," I softly began, watching as she jotted things down on her pad of paper, "The first one was just darkness, and I could hear myself laughing. I was saying something about how I deserved pain, and that I had hurt someone." I didn't want to go on, but as our eyes met and she nodded towards me, I was forced to continue. "T-The second dream was different. I was in a burning field with bodies everywhere, and it was slightly raining. I could almost feel it… In between those two dreams some of-" I stopped mid-sentence. How was I going to explain a meeting with other countries? I had to choose my words carefully, or she would truly think I was crazy. "Well, some of my f-_friends_ and I were having a party of sorts. It went downhill when another guy was trying to hit on Engl-.. Arthur, saying how I was wrong for him and how much we used to hate each other. I don't remember much because I passed out right in front of everyone from what I thought was lack of sleep."

I could see she was trying to think things through, so I briefly stopped my story, and she intervened to ask me a question or two.

"You said this person mentioned something about you and Arthur hating each other?"

_Don't say anything stupid America._

"Yeah. Arthur and I have known each other for a long time. Since I was a child actually. He would always take care of me, and he treated me like a younger brother. I eventually strayed away from him, and several years after that, we had a huge fight… More violent than it should have been…We-... Shit…"

I couldn't help it. I started to break down right in front of this woman and I couldn't do anything about it. It was all too much, and it was difficult for me to keep going. It seemed she understood and she let me breathe for a minute or so, handing me a box of tissues.

"T-That's what the p-problem is," I spoke up again, this time more quietly and with my lip quivering, "It's not him, b-but it's _me_. My fucking p-pride was more important t-to me than him, so I s-said I was happy I hurt him! B-but it really hurt m-me instead!"

"I see… So, basically you were telling yourself that you were happy, when you really weren't at all?"

"Y-Yes! A-And I never apologized!"

"Why is that?"

"Because.. Because it hurts..! To even look at him! I-I start thinking how m-much I deserve to be p-punished for doing what I did, and I hate myself!"

"Well there's your problem Alfred. You need to apologize to him face to face, no matter how hard it will be."

"I...I just… I'm so scared. Of what he'll say and do. I don't want him to hate me any more than h-he does. I've already tried to explain, but I was an idiot and said all the wrong things."

"... I think your heart is trying to tell you something Alfred. You see, our hearts hold many secrets, both good and bad. Sometimes those secrets hurt us, as in your situation, but there is always a solution. Your solution is right in front of you love, and you need to just reach out and grab it! If Arthur truly did hate you, would he be with you now?"

Rubbing my eyes furiously to rid the tears, her question repeated itself over and over in my head until it bore into my brain.

_He's stayed with me all these years, even after the war…_

Looking up into her hazel eyes, I simply stared, trying to figure out what to do and where to go next. Lucky for me, she gave me my answer.

"Go to him Alfred. Tell him everything you've told me, and I assure you these painful secrets will disappear."

* * *

**Another chapter this quickly?! It must be a miracle! X3 But in all seriousness, I already knew where I was going with this chapter and when I started I just couldn't stop! I'm really happy with how it turned out too. **

**I do apologize for the random character I made up, but it was necessary for the plot, so I hope you all don't mind! I think America is finally starting to understand, and I'm proud of him :3 **

**Leave a review because they make me smile :D**

**Until next chapter my lovelies~ **

**-Feli**


	11. Paralyzed

"I don't think I can do this."

"I know you can Alfred."

"I can't."

"Don't tell yourself that!"

"But I** can't!**"

This argument continued on for several minutes just after my surge of confidence. The walls I had temporarily built were now completely destroyed. My therapist blabbered on about how I had the courage to go to Arthur and apologize, but my fear overwhelmed me. It made me feel like I was suffocating.

But, due to her constant nagging, I was defeated and gave in to her pleas, and I started making my way to the door.

"Good luck. Call me if you need me." I simply nodded and went back out into the gloomy day, feeling ice-like drops of rain sprinkle on my golden head of hair. Droplets of water stuck to my glasses but, quite frankly, I didn't care. I was just desperate to get home and get this ordeal over with… But first I wanted something to eat. Maybe I would pick something up for England too… Sort of as an apology gift?

_You're pathetic._

Yeah, I know.

* * *

I knew I was just trying to avoid the inevitable. Sooner or later I would have to confront him, and I decided it would be best to get it over with. If he would leave me one way or another, why should I wait? So, gathering whatever bravery I had left, I opened the front door to our shared home and was surprised to see the place picked up and clean. I could also pick up the familiar aroma of fresh tea and, of course, scones. But anyone could smell_ those_ from a mile away.

Walking inside and discarding my shoes, I placed the bag of fast-food on the table and looked around for any sign of the Englishman. "Hey, I'm home." I called out, not really expecting an answer since we weren't on good terms, but I didn't want to startle him. Hesitantly I made my way towards the living room where I could hear… voices? There was definitely a conversation going on, that I was sure of.

"Shit, not now!" I heard England hiss, although it seemed as if he didn't want me to hear him at all. What was going on? As much as I didn't want to look at him right now, I had to check it out for myself. Coming around the corner, I immediately was revolted with the sight, and hated my own decision. A certain person was sitting on our couch, a little too close to Arthur.

A certain _Frenchman_ to be exact.

Something within me began to churn with hatred but I tried to ignore it, forcing vile back down my throat. The last person I wanted to see was this asshole. I could sense the tension increase in the room with every step I took and, curiously, I lifted one of my eyebrows barely visible beneath my eyeglasses. I didn't even need to say my question out loud for England to understand. "A-America, I can-"

"Save it." I spat in France's direction, staring him down loathsomely. His stupid, smug demeanor and long hair, perverted gaze, that fucking accent, the way he tried to touch _my_ Arthur…. It all made me despise him even more. If that was physically possible. I had to get away before my hatred took control. But, then again, wouldn't it be fun to see him in pain? Maybe he would understand how much pain I'm going through…

"Are.. you alright?" England asked in a hushed tone, almost cowering further into the couch as he spoke. I must have looked frightening due to his pale complexion. I'm glad. Perhaps he won't mistake me for an idiot anymore.

_France is the one who started it._

Ah, that's right. This dumbass is the one who reminded me of the war in the first place, isn't he? I think I should teach him a little lesson. After all, he is the villain, and I'm the hero.

"Why are you here?" I found myself asking in a low, monotonous voice.

"We were just talking is all." England cut in, trying to save France from saying anything that would set me off. Just the fact that _my Arthur_ was defending this moron pissed me off even further.

"Let him talk." I said more harshly, narrowing my piercing blue eyes into his.

"H-He's telling the truth _Amérique_…" He replied shakily, attempting to stand so that we were eye to eye. Bad mistake on his part.

I stepped up closer to his unshaven face.

"Don't act like you're my friend Francis," My finger dug into his chest with each word, "I know this was your plan from the start huh? Break me down and hurt me so that you can have England all to yourself? You think it's fun to take advantage of my past and use it against me? You fucking _prick_." By now I couldn't help the words spilling out of my mouth. "Just get the hell out of here before I hurt you!"

"But-"

My hand shot up to his throat before he could squeak out his reply, and slowly I began to tighten my grip. "I'm not fucking around!"

"W-Wait, Alfred!" My head shot towards England who was staring me down; he looked completely terrified. "He was just worried about you! He came to apologize!"

"Now you're falling for his tricks too?!" My attention was now focused towards Arthur, his emerald eyes swimming with emotions that I couldn't read. I tried to take a deep breath and calm myself, and slowly, very slowly, I released my grasp on the Frenchie's neck. "I'm not losing you to this." I emphasized, pointing towards France who staggered back in an anxious state. Arthur's mouth went agape as I spoke, as if he was going to say something, but the words never came out. Instead, he nodded and avoided my burning gaze. "You… You won't."

The sentence was soft, but it struck me. So much that it caused my head to feel all fuzzy, and I couldn't focus straight. Maybe it was just me overreacting to those two simple words, but they made me feel just a tinge of happiness all the same.

"A-Alfred." France choked out, and I looked over at him skeptically out of the corner of my eye. He had never used my actual name before… "I did come h-here to apologize. After I heard how much you'd been going through…" I saw that it was hard for him to come to terms with what he did, but he was certainly trying. Something that I had yet to do. "_Je suis désolé._" Sure, it would be hard to forgive him, and there was no way I could right now but.. Maybe I would … eventually. I guess I just accepted his apology so that things wouldn't get too out of hand. I knew myself too well, and I honestly would have hurt him if it weren't for England butting in.

"...Yeah. Me too." I muttered airily, just trying to get my point across and stop the feeling of shame growing inside of my chest. The three of us waited in silence for an eternity before Francis made the smart decision to leave, and soon enough the door was shut behind him and it was just me and Arthur in the dimly lit living area. I felt so separated from him, even though he was right in front of me.

England took a long, lingering breath, "So how was it?" He asked me, making the first move at bringing us back together, "You're… appointment I mean."

"Huh? Oh… Yeah, it was fine."

"Figure out anything?"

"I guess."

"Well? What happened?"

And that's when the fear factor began to take its toll on me. All of the different variables and outcomes were spinning in my mind, and for the longest time I didn't respond.

"Alfred?"

I couldn't do it.

I knew from the start I was a coward, but my pride had gone too far. I was ashamed of everything, and overwhelmed with worries and doubts. Even if I did apologize, there was still the possibility of him hating me and leaving me…

I suddenly turned to look at him. Searching into those deep, mesmerizing eyes that caught my attention when we first met back then. Those eyes that I still am in love with, along with his face, and his body, and his personality and… And… _Him_.

"Should… we talk later?"

No.

_No._

I refused to be paralyzed any longer. I would confront my mistakes no matter what the consequences.

I was willing to risk anything and _everything_ when it came to Arthur Kirkland.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was kind of fun to make things all tense to be honest. Weird, I know, but I'm still happy Francis apologized. **

**I plan to have this story finished soon! Maybe around chapter 15 or so. But, don't worry, I have plenty of ideas in mind for more stories in the future! **

**Anyway, thank you for reading, and have a wonderful day/night :3**

**-Feli**


	12. The Truth

_Don't give up Al. Just open your mouth and speak._

_Apologize._

_Just man up and_ apologize!

"America, say something."

"... But there's so much to say England."

_Well… At least you're talking._

"Then go on. I'm listening."

"Are you still angry Arthur?"

"Of course I am you twat! But that doesn't matter now."

"I think it matters… And I don't want to leave things like this."

Silence.

Followed by a heavy sigh.

"Alfred, we were both in the wrong. Tensions were high and I was confused. I apologize sincerely, alright?"

No, no, no this wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to be the one apologizing at all, and yet here I stood with my mouth agape, completely starstruck by his words.

"Wait, that's not what I meant. I was supposed to apologize to you."

"Oh what difference does it make? We both made a mistake."

"Yeah but… I am sorry. I should've thought before I spoke."

"You're forgiven. I should have done the same. I was accusing you falsely."

At least that elephant in the room was cleared. Or, one of them at least. There were many more questions that he wanted answered; I could see it clearly in his bright, gleaming eyes.

"Just forget about that, and let's move on. There are other things I want to talk to you about."

_Just keep this up and you'll be fine._

_Don't think about anything else; just him._

_Don't think about the fact that he may leave you._

_Don't think about how much you've confused him._

_Just...Just…_

"Fuck! This happens every goddamn time!"

"W-What?"

"I feel so confident, and then I'm reminded of everything that has made my life hell!"

"Calm down America-"

"I can't!" I screamed, gripping my face, "I can't, I can't, _I can't!_"

I was losing it again. All of the pent up anger and sadness were manifesting themselves into insanity, and I couldn't control it. As soon as I thought I could say I was sorry, all of these doubts would overwhelm me and I was back to square one. It was a vicious cycle that would go on for an eternity.

And then certain words hit me square in the face. Words spoken calmly by a woman with hair much like England's, who had gotten me this far along. Maybe…

I clumsily fumbled around in my pocket for a white slip of paper with letters scrawled across its surface. There it was in all of its glory. The address for the therapist's office. And what a glorious piece of paper it was. Breathing slowly, heavily, I looked towards puzzled eyes that met with mine.

"I think I have an idea."

"Oh no."

"Don't worry. I think this may actually be a good one for once."

* * *

The office was the same as it was earlier when I had visited. Soft, dimmed lighting, lovely music playing in the background, and those comfortable couches practically calling my name. But there was no time for that now. I had England by the wrist and I was dragging him down the hall, trying to find her office which, if I remembered correctly, was the last door on the right. Or, wait… Was it the left? It didn't matter anyway because suddenly I saw her staring at me through the window in her door. Her expression was a mix between shock and confusion, but I simply offered a miniscule smile and pulled England into her range of vision. "Is this your therapist?" He asked me quietly, and I nodded, starting to feel my stomach churn with nervousness.

"A-Alfred? What are you doing back? Is everything alright?"

"Not really, but, can I have an emergency session with you?"

Her eyes darted towards my lover and her gaze softened dramatically, returning to her usual soft features that glowed with health.

"Sure thing. Make yourself at home."

Arthur seemed hesitant, but he followed me inside all the same and sat down next to me with his palm on my knee.

"Arthur K-"

"Kirkland?" She finished the sentence, reaching her hand out to shake his smaller one, "It's wonderful to meet you."

"P-Pleasure…" England responded, furrowing his thick eyebrows and looking at me skeptically.

"It was Matthew." I explained, and the Brit nodded in understanding.

"So, what brings both of you here this time?"

_Here we go._

"Well… I wanted some moral support. I was feeling less and less confident, and with you here I think I can-"

"Ah, I see." I would never understand how she could read my mind like that. "And maybe it would be best if he shared too."

"What's going on?" England chimed in, curiosity written across his face, "I'm extremely confused. Share what?"

His grip tightened on my jeans ever so slightly as I smoothed back my hair with my free hand, trying to take in my surroundings and calm down.

"Well, go on Alfred." She pried, leaning back on her swivel chair with her smile dancing. "You can do it."

I nodded. It wasn't a matter of if I could do it or not any more. I knew I needed to, or this problem would never be solved.

"Arthur, I need to apologize."

"But you already-"

"No. Let me talk."

He seemed shocked about me cutting him off so abruptly, but he folded his hands, nodded, and leaned further into the couch. All while bouncing his crossed leg up and down restlessly.

"I'll start from the beginning then, and I won't leave anything out. I want you to know everything."

_Yes, you're fine. Keep going. Just spill everything._

"I am so sorry I left you Arthur, all of those years ago when I was a stupid teenager. I didn't hate you. I have never hated you. I was just an idiot who was trying to prove myself to the one I loved most."

_What's next? Go on you moron!_

"A-And then during the Rev-... During our_ fight_, I am so sorry I looked at you like that. I can still remember it clearly. Did you think that I hated you?"

"W..Well, in all honesty… I didn't know what to think."

"And I'm sorry. I'll tell you that it killed me to see you in tears. I had to force myself to smile, which left this horrible ache inside. Arthur, I had nightmares for years about that day. I hated myself for it. I still do."

"Alfred-"

I was starting to cry, but I didn't mind it. In fact, I welcomed the tears. I was foolishly building them up, and now they needed to be released. It felt so good to be able to tell the truth for once. Tissues were handed to me, and I took them without a second glance.

"S-so I tried to tell myself I was alright Artie. I tried t-to convince myself that I did what was right! I was such an idiot! I told myself that I was happy for hurting you, when it really pained me to see you so depressed. I h-heard all of these rumors about you spending years in agony over a bastard like me!"

"That's not true Alfred!"

"I pushed away all of the memories and tried to act l-like they never existed. Then they came back to haunt me, and I was reminded about everything I have ever done to hurt you! And I hate myself for it England! I hate every inch of myself!"

"A-America please stop…!"

"I'm a horrible person w-who doesn't deserve you! Everytime I see your face I think about how much I hurt you, and I can't stand it anymore. T-That's why I need to punish myself. I never even apologized for the horrible shit I did to you, and yet somehow you still claim that you love me. This guilt is eating me alive! How can you love me England? How?! I'm a selfish, prideful, horrible person who should just die for everything I've done!"

I was basically screaming at the top of my lungs at this point. Not out of anger, but out of pure disappointment. In myself, of course. I was sobbing uncontrollably with my nose running and heart racing, but I had to continue. I needed to let it all out and tell him how I really felt.

"I'm so s-sorry! Arthur, I'm so sorry! Please, I can't do this anymore! I'm s-so-!"

"For the love of god Alfred, shut your bloody mouth!"

Trembling and panting I looked up into his face which was much like mine. Tears were streaming down his rosy cheeks, so much that he had to constantly wipe them away, and his hands were shaking wildly as he tried to clench his fists. We were both a mess.

"I-I love you Arthur." I murmured, inhaling fiercely and trying not to choke on my own breath. I waited for his response, and soon enough his accent pierced my ears.

"_This_ is what you were hurting yourself for?!" He demanded, his voice wavering, "All of this? You are an idiot!"

_Here it comes. This is your goodbye. He hates you now._

"You fucking git, if I truly hated you that much, I wouldn't be sitting here would I?! Can't you get it through your thick head that I love you?! To hell with the past! I hate what you did, s-sure, but I understand! You wanted to be free. You wanted to see the world for yourself, and live life by your own rules. And rebellion is a part of life Alfred! God knows how many nights I spent crying, but I forgave you in a heartbeat! So please, stop this nonsense, because I forgive you for everything. I love you Alfred Jones, you bloody, fucking, _twat_!"

Eyes widening, lip quivering, I collapsed into his arms bawling like a child as tears soaked through his shirt. His doing the same to mine as we spent at least twenty minutes fully crying in each other's arms. Finally a sense of relief washed over me as I let it all go. Happiness began to well through my body, and the wounds I had inflicted seemed to disappear. I couldn't deny the fact that I still hated myself, but England truly did love me. And that was all that mattered. That's all that ever has, and ever will, truly matter to me.

* * *

**This is not the end... Yet. I am very happy that he apologized though. I'm sure Alfie is much happier :3 He finally was able to face his fear!**

**Leave a review if you enjoyed it! They make me happy~**

**Love you all, and have a great day!**

**-Feli**


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